Green pyro blasted from the lower bar of the Titantron, immediately preceding the energetic opening guitar solo to "747 (Strangers in the Night)" by Saxon, signalling Krame's arrival. Sure enough, a long, blonde haired individual burst through the curtain and onto the middle of the stage, headbanging to the music. After a few seconds, he took a few exaggerated warm-up steps before sprinting down to the ring, hopping onto the ring apron and catapulting himself over the top rope. Landing firmly on his feet, he ran over to the farthest turnbuckle and climbed up it, scanning the crowd as the ring announcer said, "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Krame!" to a chorus of cheers.
Krame's entrance theme died down. Taking the mic, Krame said, "Now, I know that my match is not on until later tonight, but I'm so psyched that I just had to come out here before all you great people to assure you of my victory over that self-obsessed jack-ass Anthony." The crowd cheered even louder, strongly approving of Krame's disdain for the WOW! Men's Champion.
"Now, some people that I have spoken to are warning me that I will lose the match if I keep on like this. They say that I'll be too focused on taking Anthony out to prevent Dereck from picking up the win." Krame laughed. "That ain't happening tonight. I'm gonna damn well make sure that Anthony's gonna lose, that's the plan. I got nothing against Dereck, but he's not going to win, either. Because, let's face it, I'm Krame."
Krame smirked. "Now, I know that's a little egotistical of me, but that's okay, because I was just joking. I am expecting one hell of a fight from these two worthy oppone... from one worthy opponent and Anthony. Not that I'm taking anything away from Anthony, because the way I see it, there's nothing to take away. He is a joke of a champion, even he has to admit that. He is a joke of an Irishman - he's from Northern Ireland. That's British territory! Now, I'm an Irishman that you can put your money on, I'm from Cill Dara. For those of you who don't speak as Gaeilge, that means Kildare. That's in the Republic of Ireland. Not that there's anything wrong with living in Derry, but I think that it's a little absurd for a Briton to say that he has "Irish Spirit". Irish spirits, maybe, but not Irish spirit."
He brushed his hair behind his ears. "But enough about Anthony, I think that it's time to address Dereck. Dereck, you most certainly belong in this match, I mean, you hold a pinfall over both me and Anthony. You were a terrific tag team partner, and a more than worthy adversary. In fact, I'd say that you have the most momentum going into this match. The problem with momentum, however, is that if you miss, you fall. It's impossible for anyone to stop momentum like that, even yourself, but it's not quite so difficult to dodge it. Besides, momentum is just a placebo, it makes you think that you're better than you actually are."
Krame saw that the crowd's interest was starting to wane, so he wrapped up his promo with, "So, in summary, I'll see you all later when I'm celebrating with the WOW! Men's Title."
As he left the ring, a new, once-off entrance theme blared from the speakers, as per his request. "Whiskey in the Jar" by Thin Lizzy. Mic still in hand, he feigned a strong Dublin accent, a lá the late, great Phil Lynott and sang along with the unofficial National Anthem for Irish Rockers.
"As I was going over the Cork and Kerry Mountains,
I saw Captain Farrell, and his money he was countin'.
I first produced my pistol, and then produced my rapier,
I said 'Stand and deliver, or the Devil, he may take ya'.
Mash-a-rain-da-ba-doo-da-ba-da
Whack for my daddy-o, whack for my daddy-o, there's
Whiskey in the Jar-o."
With that, Krame dropped the mic, "747" commenced and he exited the stage.
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